


the aurora that we made

by lvlybite



Series: the sky we rule over [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blasphemy, Blood, Catholic Imagery, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Minor Injuries, Mythology - Freeform, Original Mythology, Other, i guess? idk what is considered blasphemy, its more about feelings than about romance, the other members are mentioned, they are all gods i dunno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 05:03:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20902073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lvlybite/pseuds/lvlybite
Summary: “humans don't understand the world.”“neither do we, but we don't know how to live like them either.”“and you want to?”“i do. i want to feel.”or: the one where minghao finds his others stray brothers and let's himself be found too





	the aurora that we made

**Author's Note:**

> this is dedicated to and made for a dear friend.  
kaori, if you insist in torturing me with soonyoung pics I will torture you with this! I hope you have a great day!
> 
> to anyone that may stumble trough this: english isn't my first language so try to bear with me a little and tell me if you see anything wrong (besides the lower case, that was intentional).

there was a time when minghao didn't know a world in which they weren't together. the only reality he could understand was the one were seungcheol would smile at them, beaming with the force of his powers inside the shadows that represented the start, somewhere were jeonghan would be kind and warm, as much as his powers were hungry and cold, jihoon would weave notes into the air so they could dance together and make new things...

and junhui would be warm.

but the world never stays the same as it was, even for the immortals.

*

minghao can't remember who was the first one to go. but he was the last one to stay, so it's only fitting that he's the one that will fetch them all.

they are scattered around the world, but there is someone that calls. minghao knows it is the first one.

* * *

“solitude isn't your style.”

the bright red petals are a stark contrast against the snow that falls. they should not, would not, be alive if it wasn't for the pale figure that sits delicately between them.

“our dismiss is always in solitude, minghao.” his voice is soft as he speaks, but his eyes never stray from the flowers.

he's not like minghao remembers, his dark hair turned to the color of snow and his skin looks so white he could bury himself in the cold and be invisible. but his eyes are still light and hold the same softness of family.

and minghao could never feel cold beside jeonghan, his soul was a flame too bright for that. it burned between his iced fingers like the touch of healing, like the touch of love that only akin one could share.

the thing was: the cold killed, but it kept families inside cozy homes and held the children with their parents. the cold buried corpses to be found in the spring for their loved ones; held their souls with gentle hands and shaky breaths so they would never suffer again. the cold was mercy, as much as it wasn't.

so jeonghan was the union, was salvation. he was the first one.

“brother, i don't think i want to consume anything anymore.”

the whisper comes as he raises from the bloody flowers.

his eyes are green.

minghao thinks about the words that he listened to a long time ago and finally breathes.

“you don't need to.” his hand extended, expectantly. “our brothers are waiting home for us.”

* * *

“i'm hungry.”

“what do you want?”

“life. what the humans have. maybe death too, that's one of the things the world is made of, after all.”

“death doesn't sound like a good thing.”

“no, it's not.”

“so why do you want it?”

“don't humans chase anything they can't have? don't they put themselves through wars and pain so they can feel something?”

“humans don't understand the world.”

“neither do we, but we don't know how to live like them either.”

“and you want to?”

“i do. i want to feel.”

* * *

there's the sky, there's the sea and there’s the figure in between. minghao asks himself if he has the time he needs to bring this one back: the day is ending and he has duties to attend that cannot wait, but art can't be created from nothing, not really.

it needs work and feelings and some time. with art, there's no space for the nothingness or the real hurry of feelings that can't stick.

neither with jihoon.

he is not tall, but minghao knows the imposing presence of perseverance and the darkness of the pain that climbs the souls he guards. jeonghan, seungcheol and joshua were always deemed the dangerous ones; the ones with the darkest and deeper habilities.

they came to realize with time that the ones with the most beautiful creations, like jihoon, were the ones that could do the most lasting damage.

not that he was bad, that was far from the truth. just like music, his preferred craft, he could be soft and kind and the only place someone could run for shelter. but he was also severe and needed the sacrifices that came with the creation.

out of all of them, he was the one that resemble the god humans adored the most.

but he was never cruel.

“i didn't think you would still care for me.” he said, finally, after years of silence. “neither of you, to be honest. not after the way i left.”

minhao lets the screams inside his head go, the memory of a moment where they knew nothing besides the softness of the nest; the safety of family.

inside his heart, there was no wrong done.

the world could hurt more than any of them ever would.

“you wanted to help, that's not a sin.”

“using christian words now? that’s ironic.”

after a long moment of movement and silence, that extended itself around time and space, minghao held his brother in his arms, away from the cliff in front of them.

he would never die if he did jump. it didn't mean it wouldn't hurt.

“you died for their sins already, there is no need fo more pain.”

the tears were cold and blood made a new pact, one of penitence.

“let the sadness here, brother, you suffered for them so our brothers await with proudness.”

“they hate me.”

“never.”

* * *

“i can't breath here anymore.”

“maybe you should ask seokmin for help with the air.”

“no, it's not the air. everyone here thinks lowly of me, i'm no good compared to the mighty of this place.”

“brother, we don't...”

“you'll judge me and you'll hate me, i'm not right and they need me!”

“who needs you?”

“the ones that are suffering down there! can't you hear it?”

“i hear nothing besides the leaves changing for the next season.”

“their pleas are maddening! and i know every single one will hate me with time, i’m nothing more than what the humans make of me! i’m weak compared to you!”

“you’re everything to us! we would never think of you like that!”

“liar!”

“i'm not lying, you just need time to see!”

“i don't have time! I have to go to them!”

“will you leave us for them?”

“i don’t have a choice, i don’t think i ever did.”

* * *

minghao's covered in blood and he doesn't know what to expect of this one, but it isn't a human house inside a big city.

seungcheol opens the door like he knew he was coming. he doesn't ask; wouldn't be surprised if he did know. darkness was the first thing to ever exist, after all.

there’s coffee on the table and the house looks comfortable, but empty: every single house he has ever entered had pictures and memories, but this one has nothing besides the desperation of belonging.

a nest that never held a new life, never sheltered a family.

seongcheol looks at him with dark eyes and a kind smile. he looks every bit like the leader he once was, still is. will forever be.

“i see the time to come back has arrived for us.” his hand rests on minghao's head, it tastes like mercy. “i always knew the messenger would be the one to come. change can't be stopped.”

“neither does the dark.” he notes “the light still casts shadows and yours awaits you.”

he smiles. minghao finally feels at peace.

“i guess i don't need this place anymore. home is calling.”

darkness never runs from anything. after all, there’s nothing better to bring light than someone finding somewhere where it doesn't reach.

the change fits the role.

* * *

“i'm not a liar so i will be truthful. i'm curious.”

“about the humans too?”

“about the world. i was here before any of you, but i was too afraid of everything to explore.”

“aren't you trying to pay for what they are doing?”

“maybe. but i really want to discover what is happening out there, down this mountain.”

“i can feel your heart, you know.”

“yes, i can feel the change.”

“will you come back?”

“when you do, i will.”

“but i'm here still.”

“change is not meant to be still, minghao. and darkness was always meant to conquer, if i want it or not.”

* * *

this one is the only time minghao knows where to go without the pull of pain.

blood still drips from his white robes and he tastes redemption inside his mouth. in the distance, he can see the house at the top of the mountain, the path cleared in waiting for him; for the stranded sons that are coming home, finally.

the stars align themselves like a big sign, he knows for certain it's soonyoung's work.

when he reaches the end of the way, the door mere feet of distance, he turns around. open arms to finally come home.

life follows him. like death started the path, junhui is the one to end it.

he knows he's been there all along, the god of beginnings following change where he stepped, just a little bit behind: a decade, years, months, days, minutes... seconds. the hand that held jeonghan up and send him the right way again, the one that stitched jihoon's wounds and held his smile all the way up, the all present memory of seungcheol selling his house.

junhui ends everything he starts. minghao follows with every single thing he does.

when junhui flings himself into his arms, minghao holds him as their lips connect and the cheers and exclamations of love and missing make the end of the longing sweeter than life itself.

finally, home.

* * *

“you know we will have to go soon.”

“yes, you'll need to go before they do, though.”

“and you'll need to stay, for as long as they do.”

“i don't want to be away from you, i don't know how to be myself without you.”

“that's why we will have to part, my love. we were born together and will cease to exist together one day, but first, we have to grow and to change, you know that better than i do.”

“it still hurts.”

“isn’t that the beauty of being alive, my soul? feeling this that is suffering and happiness and the nurturing of a soul?”

“pain is not beautiful, jun.”

“maybe it isn't for you now, but don't worry, our encounter will be sweet.”

“i don't want this, but i love you and i know it's coming whether i like it or not.”

“i love you forever, minghao. i’ll be just a little behind you, at all times”

“promise, half of my soul?”

“i promise, half of mine.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!  
this may turn into a series, if i'm not too lazy but, for now, that's it. i hope you have enjoyed minghao's coming home adventure.


End file.
